


Beard Kink

by The_White_Rabbit42



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Beard Kink, F/M, Fingering, Oral Sex, PWP
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-16
Updated: 2019-02-16
Packaged: 2019-10-29 10:37:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17806442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_White_Rabbit42/pseuds/The_White_Rabbit42
Summary: Gabriel riles up the reader with a little extra something he brought on the hunt.





	Beard Kink

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: The title might change as it evolves into a mini series, but I'll cross that bridge when I get there.

You still weren’t certain how he talked you into it.  Probably because there wasn’t a whole lot of talking involved.  He was all sly looks and subtle touches, priming you throughout the hunt until you were practically sprinting back to your motel room for some much needed self-release.

 

Imagine your surprise when you found him waiting just inside.  

 

You still hadn’t made it more than a few steps in.  There you were, leaning heavily against the door, stripped from the waist down with an enthusiastic archangel between your thighs.  His technique was amazing, though you expected no less from someone with centuries to perfect it. What was really making you weak in the knees was the latest addition to his look.  

 

_ “What is that on your face?”  You didn’t mean to sound rude, but, really? He was going to show up with that and expect you to accomplish anything?  _

 

_ “Like it?”  He struck a pose, trailing the back of his fingers along his jaw.    _

 

It had been your undoing.  All those nights of careful dancing, of volleying back his flirtations and using every ounce of self-restraint, shattered by a well-trimmed beard.  

 

“Oh  _ fuck _ .”  Your legs wobbled, exhaustion and a heady rush of desire nearly taking you to the floor.  You latched onto the doorknob, simultaneously bracing yourself on his shoulder. 

 

“Let go, sugar,” he murmured, his grace sweeping around your backside.  “I got you.” 

 

You didn’t have much of a choice.  Worn muscles gave a final aching flair, unable to bear your weight any longer as his mouth latched back onto your clit and did something that defied reality.  As promised, you didn’t end up on your ass. You simply dropped a few inches before being caught by something that reminded you of a warm blanket. 

 

He ran his hands up your calves before grabbing you by the back of your knees and lifting your legs over his shoulders.  They continued up your thighs, cresting over the curves of your backside. He indulged himself in a handful before easing you forward, cheek scraping along your inner thigh as he teased away from your sex.  

 

You wriggled, enjoying every moment as he drew it out, the fire in your stomach igniting with every rub of his chin.  

 

Cocky ass.  You knew half the reason he did it was so he couldn’t be put in the  _ one and done  _ category.  You’d have no choice but to remember him with the burn he was leaving.

 

It made you wonder what else he might do to ensure you thought of him the next day.  

 

You carded your fingers through his curls, hips arching forward, seeking friction elsewhere again.  

 

“Someone is nee- _ dy _ ,” he chuckled.  

 

He ran his tongue along your slit, and the way his fingers followed pulled a mew from your mouth.  He sank one into you, your head dropping back against the door as he moaned against you. 

 

“Father, you are soaked,” he breathed.  “Mmmm, and so fucking  _ warm _ .”  You whined as he withdrew from you, his hands moving to steady your hips.  A devious gleam overtook gold. “But I’m getting ahead of myself. I have big plans for you, and they start with undoing you with my mouth.”  

 

You sucked in air as he traced his tongue along your folds.  

 

“Then again with my hands.”  

 

He kissed along your mound, intentionally ignoring that nexus of nerve endings you so desperately needed him to touch again.  

 

“I think the third I’ll try both.”  

 

His mouth landed chastely on your clit and you could have screamed when it was only enough to create a small spark of pleasure.  

 

“Then, if you’re good, we’ll talk about what else I might have to please you with.”

 

A sinful smirk graced his features, and heat pooled further between your legs.

 

“I hope you can put your money where your mouth is, feathers.”    

 

“Oh, I’ll put more than that here, sweetheart,” he promised.   

 

He snapped, and you found yourself staring up at the stained tile ceiling, ensconced in fluffy lightness.  Thinly padded and sagging springs were replaced by a down comforter on top of what might have been a cloud.  You couldn't be sure, but the mattress itself was certainly large and airy enough to be one. 

 

“Show off,” you sighed, throwing your arms back and enjoying the plushness surrounding you. 

 

“Just you wait.”  

 

He peeled off his jacket, and you looked up in time to watch him remove his shirt.  You’d always wondered what lay beneath all those layers, and the lean but fit frame had you salivating more than washboard abs ever could.  He looked  _ real _ , not some divine specimen of perfection and a reminder that he was well and truly out of your league.  

 

“Ah, ah,” he said, holding up a finger and waving it back and forth.  “I don’t know where your head just went, but there will be  _ none  _ of that.”   

 

He got up on the bed, dropping down onto his hands and knees.  Honeyed hues became molten as he began to climb the length of you, his frame moving with feline grace.  There was a predatory air about him, as if he might devour you at any moment. 

 

The hunger in his stare when the rest of your clothes vanished suggested he might do just that. 

 

“Now where should I start?”  He questioned, eyes drinking in the sight of you.  “I bet there are some nice, sensitive spots right here.”  He nibbled along the side of your neck, sending goosebumps flourishing across your skin.  

 

“These are always a crowd pleaser.”  He slid lower, lips tracing over your collarbone before moving along the tops of your breasts.  He brought his face down into your cleavage, the drag of his beard causing you to arch and push more of yourself against him.  

 

“I bet I could make you come with these alone,” he rasped, grazing his cheek beneath a soft swell before his tongue darted out, flicking at a nipple.  A strangled noise lodged in your throat, fingernails digging into his back as you urged him on. 

 

“Or maybe I should finish where I started?”  He continued lower, placing lazy, open mouthed kisses along your stomach, each one preceded by a wiry scratch from his chin.  

 

You’d never had any man spend so much time on foreplay. Most were interested only in what was necessary to get you started.  Gabriel, on the other hand, took his time, exploring every inch of skin, and by the time he hooked your legs around him once again, you were absolutely throbbing for him.  

 

He lapped at your juices, probing into your slick channel and making you squirm.  He had to hold you down, hands pressing your hips into the mattress when he finally returned to your clit, and the things he did with his tongue alone were going to ruin you for anyone else.  Your legs tightened around him, and he began to move his head, rubbing his face along your thighs and sending you straight into the stratosphere. 

 

You had never come so loudly - or hard - before in your life, the entire world inking around the edges as bright spots flashed across the back of your eyelids.  Your body finally went slack, your hands tingling as you started to descend. 

 

“Fuck,” you breathed, your legs shaking as he eased himself out from beneath them.  There was no way you were going to survive another one of those. 

 

“I hate to say it.”  You really,  _ really  _ hated to.  “But I’m not certain I’m up for a round two.”  

 

You were sorely regretting not taking Dean up on his offer to relieve you earlier so you could catch a nap.

 

“Believe it or not, I can have that effect on people.”

 

You cracked an eye to find him positively preening, smugness splashing self-satisfied across his face.  

 

“You’re not upset?”   

 

Most guys you brought back would be, at best, making passive aggressive remarks while getting ready to leave, and, at worst, laying on the guilt trip or pressuring you to continue.

 

“Seriously?”  His brow shot up.  “I just wrecked you in a single orgasm.  That’s a success in my book.” 

 

He patted your thigh before sitting up, replacing his clothes in a single snap.  A second comforter appeared in his hands and he buried you beneath it, making sure you were securely tucked in for the night.  “Get some rest. You’ll need it for tomorrow.” 

 

A satisfied smile adorned your face as you closed your eyes, the sound of the door opening and closing barely registering.  

 

***

 

You couldn’t believe how tired you still were.  There were muscles you’d forgotten existed, a pleasant soreness and exhaustion echoing with every movement you made.  You could barely sit still, the hard booths of the diner  _ not  _ helping, but there was one discomfort that registered above all else. 

 

And you could not have been more pleased.  

 

“What’s got you in such a good mood?”  Dean asked, his question more idle conversation as he scanned the menu. 

 

You shifted your legs unconsciously, relishing the burn along your thighs.  You thought back to shades of gold between your legs and you couldn’t keep your lips from curling at the edges.  You came up with a suitable excuse, the words about to leave your tongue. 

 

Before you could speak, someone else chimed in.  

 

“Can’t a girl just smile?”  Gabriel asked. “I know it’s a foreign concept for you Gloomchesters, but not everybody makes their living being tall, dark, and broody.”

 

His fingers drummed along the seat behind you, arm stretched casually along your shoulders.  Every now and then his jacket would graze yours, and you weren’t certain whose awareness he was testing more: yours or your friends’.  

 

“Remind me why you’re still here?”  Dean demanded, features hardening as he glanced at the archangel. 

 

Sam cleared his throat, and his brother resisted the urge to roll his eyes.   “Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate the help, but with most of the coven out of the way, cleaning up the stragglers should be like shooting fish in a barrel.  Nothing I’d think would interest you.” 

 

To be fair, it was a valid question.  Even you had been surprised to find him waiting outside the Impala this morning.  

 

“Normally, it wouldn’t, but…”  He paused, running his fingers thoughtfully over the side of his mug before picking it up.  “Believe it or not, it’s not all about you, Deana-rino, or Jolly Green there. I’ve got some unfinished business of my own.”  He took a sip of his drink, eyes twinkling as they briefly met yours. “And I intend to stick around until I take care of it.”  


End file.
